Monday, June 29, 2009

Directions...Not My Speciality

I just thought I was dragging last week. Saturday and Sunday were busy and I thought I was going to get to turn in early last night. Nope. Brad checked the alfalfa about 8:00 p.m. and said he thought it was ready to bale. I rake...about twice a year.When we got to the field he got in my tractor (the one I drove two years ago) to refresh my knowledge of knobs. His directions: "O.K. you remember this knob does this and that one does that," and got out. I thought to myself, " And you probably know how to thread my serger, don't you?" I didn't say anything, but tried to go over in my mind the instructions he'd given me. By now it's dark. His directions for following the swathed trails are pretty much the same, "Just follow this path (what path??) until you get down there to that tree (what tree, it's dark??) and turn right, then you may have to swing back and pick up that other part... blah, blah, blah." The directions made absolutely no sense to me...but I didn't say a word. I just nodded "yes" and did my best. This morning when we went back to finish up, my nocturnal inattention to details was evident.
Another puzzling activity we do every summer that involves directions from my husband is the: "You Take Me Over To The Smith Place I'll Road This Tractor Back to the Ford Place You Take The Chevy Pickup Go Home and Come Back Then I'll Take This Tractor With the Baler Back to Canton We'll Both Get Back In The Tractor Sit For a While Then We'll Road It Back Home Again." On those days I need a road map explaining what's on his mind.
I was so confused Saturday night that I left him in the field until 11:00 p.m. He called and said I was suppose to have picked him up at 8:30 p.m. When he called I felt like I was on Jeopardy. "Where did I ask you to take the pickup?" Da,Da,Da,Da,Da,Da Daaa, Da, Da,Da,Da, Da,dadadadada...just before the buzzer, I answer "What is the Haskin's Place? "Yes." he said (whew, got that one right!) "Now where did I tell you to go after that?" " What is Home?" I say. BEEEEEP (whoops, got that one wrong) "No, that's not what I said, I wanted you to come back and get me." he said. At that point he asked me, "Where am I now?"... I said with weak uncertainty " What is The Humphrey Place?" "Yes." he said in an exasperated voice, "Now can you come and get me?" I did, with many apologies.
No chance of a "Returning Direction Taking Champ" title for me.

How "We" Make It Work

Writing for the Red Prairie Dust Magazine is holding me accountable. A peek at this quarter's article which allowed me to share thought...